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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131156">Sick and Tired of Being Sick</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloferelith/pseuds/helloferelith'>helloferelith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SKAM (France)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Roommates, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:20:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloferelith/pseuds/helloferelith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas gets sick and Eliott takes care of him. That’s it, that’s the story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sick and Tired of Being Sick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As much as Eliott hates it, he’s grown pretty used to getting sick. Bipolar disorder and a weakened immune system tend to go hand in hand. When he was growing up, he always had his mum there to take care of him. She’d make sure he had plenty of blankets and make him soup and tea, and then she’d cuddle him and sing to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t happen quite as often as he got older. He mostly only ever got colds that he made himself suffer through. He’d down some Humex and ingest more cough drops than was probably healthy. His mum would still offer to make him soup and stroke his hair, while he sat at the table eating it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His dad would talk about the importance of hand hygiene. Something that Eliott would listen to, but the problem is, nobody else ever seemed to get the memo. And unfortunately for him, no matter how many times he washes his hands and uses hand sanitizer, he always seems to catch what’s going around. It’s a curse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas though, he’s always had an amazing immune system. Everyone else around them would be getting sick and Lucas would come out unscathed. Eliott always envied that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Which is why it’s so surprising when Eliott comes home to their shared apartment to find Lucas curled up on the couch surrounded by blankets, with tissues and ginger ale on the table in front of him. If that didn’t immediately give away that something wasn’t right, the sniffling and occasional raspy cough certainly does.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott frowns, and sets down his backpack by the door, “Luc? You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Lucas’ voice is so hoarse it has Eliott wincing. “I’m dying.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott tries not to smile as he walks over and looks down at Lucas, “Should I start making funeral arrangements?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t appreciate your humour right now,” Lucas tells him. “I feel horrible.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott brings the back of his hand up, and feels Lucas’ forehead, “You do feel a little hot. Have you taken anything for it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas shakes his head, “No. We don’t have anything, I checked. And I didn’t feel like going out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You should have called me. I would have stopped at the store on my way home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t want to bother you” Lucas sniffs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott sighs, “It wouldn’t be bothering me. You’re my best friend. And you’re sick. Of course I’m going to take care of you. Will you be okay if I run out for a few minutes?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t leave me,” Lucas whines.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Eliott debates his options. He needs cold and flu medicine for Lucas, but he can’t go get it himself. He doesn’t even realise he’s been stroking Lucas’ hair until he pulls his hand away and Lucas makes a noise of distress at the loss of contact. “I’m going to call and see if someone will stop and get some things for us. Why don’t you go into your bedroom? You’ll probably be more comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas sits up, just his head peeking out of his cocoon of blankets. “Will you come find me after?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Now go. I’ll be right there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott watches as Lucas unsteadily makes his way down the hall. Then he snaps into action. The first person he calls is his mum.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not expecting her to actually come over. All he wanted was a recipe for her soup, so he could have someone pick up things for him. But half an hour later she’s standing in their kitchen, hair wrapped into a tight bun on the top of her head, looking as focused as ever, as she stirs the pot of soup she’s cooking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I could have done this myself,” Eliott tells her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you could sweetheart,” Alice smirks. “But I wanted to help. Lucas is like a second son to me, and the poor boy has never been sick like this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott gets it. He does. He hasn’t exactly liked seeing his best friend like this. “If you have everything under control here, I’m going to go check on him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wash your hands!” Alice calls after him. “And no funny business or else I’ll end up back here in a few days because <em>you’ve</em> gotten sick!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shakes his head. He doesn’t know what exactly she thinks Eliott and Lucas would be doing that would involve him getting sick too. It’s not as if they’re together. They’re not. They’re just best friends. Best friends who occasionally cuddle on the couch, and fall asleep wrapped around each other.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott peeks his head into Lucas’ room, finding him curled up on his bed. There’s a movie playing on the TV.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas gives him a tired smile, “Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Eliott says. He sits down on the edge of the bed, and brings his hand up to Lucas’ forehead, feeling the temperature. His fingers find their way to Lucas’ hair again without Eliott even thinking about it. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Like shit,” Lucas says. “I never want to feel like this again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smiles, “Hopefully you won’t. My mum is here. She’s making her chicken noodle soup. And I have some cold medicine for you.” Eliott holds up the bottle, and Lucas makes a face. Eliott laughs. “Yeah I know. It’s gross. But it’ll help. That, tea, soup and cuddles are my mum's guarantee for getting better.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Lucas says. He grimaces a bit as he tries to sit up. “But it better not be the cherry flavoured one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Eliott says. “What do you take me for? I’m not trying to poison you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas smiles, and takes the small cup filled with liquid medicine from Eliott’s hands. He downs it and his face twists in disgust as he swallows it. He hands the cup back over, and Eliott puts it aside with the bottle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not cherry, but still fucking gross.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure the soup will make up for it,” Eliott tells him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, if that flavour ever leaves my mouth,” Lucas grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. “Just get comfortable. I’ll be back with the soup when it’s done.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He goes to stand up, but Lucas stops him with a hand on his arm. When Eliott looks down at him, it’s to see Lucas looking down at the covers. He’s biting his bottom lip, clearly nervous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Luc?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You said cuddles were a part of your mum’s guarantee for getting better,” Lucas says. He lifts his eyes to meet Eliott’s, and they’re clearer than they’ve been all day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They are,” Eliott says, catching on to what Lucas is asking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So will you stay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. When Lucas lifts up his blanket, he crawls underneath it. He smiles when Lucas scoots over and wraps his arms around Eliott’s waist. He tucks his head against his neck and lets out a content sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love when we cuddle,” Lucas says, his voice quiet. “It’s one of my favourite things we do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too,” Eliott says back, just as quietly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish we could always cuddle. And sleep like this. But not like…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not as friends,” Lucas says. He snuggles in closer, and Eliott’s arms tighten around him. He feels like he’s holding his breath as he waits for Lucas to say something else. “But as more than friends. As people that hold hands and kiss and go out together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As boyfriends?” Eliott asks. Lucas doesn’t say anything, Eliott pulls back so he can look at him. “Lucas, do you want to be my boyfriend?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas smiles, “I thought you’d never ask.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott doesn’t point out he hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> been asking. Not right then. He’d just wanted some clarification about what Lucas wanted, and now he has it. And apparently he also has a boyfriend now too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, I guess we’re boyfriends,” Eliott tells him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I wish I could kiss you right now without you getting sick,” Lucas says. He looks so put out by it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott knows it’s a risk, but he still can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing Lucas softly. His lips taste like the horrible honey and lemon cough syrup he’d just taken, but Eliott doesn’t care.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hears a sigh from the doorway and turns to see his mother standing there, a tray with two bowls of soup held in her hands. She puts it down on the bed side table, and then looks down at them both, her hands on her hips, and her expression trying for stern but failing. “I thought I said no funny business.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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